


Merry Christmas, Darling

by nomadicwolf



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwolf/pseuds/nomadicwolf
Summary: It's the first Christmas without Steve's mom, Bucky makes sure to make it special.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Stucky Secret Santa 2019





	Merry Christmas, Darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SiriGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriGirl/gifts).



It’s cold. So bitter cold that it makes Steve wonder why his mother had ever decided to settle down in New York to begin with. Steve turned on the stove in his apartment. Rather--he lit the stove with an old lighter because it wouldn’t start on its own--the thing was falling apart. 

He began peeling the potatoes as he kept an eye on the water that sat on top of the stove. He was sure it would take a little while to boil. The stove didn’t have the same power that it used to. Steve just focused on peeling the potatoes for the time being. It was one of the few things that he could put together without having to worry that he’d burn the apartment down. His mother really did his best to teach him how to cook. He was just awful at it.

Steve slowly put the potatoes into the not yet boiling water. He brought his attention to the vegetables as he finally began to feel some of the heat from the stove fill up the tiny apartment.  _ Thank god!  _ He brought his attention back to the pot, it was starting to resemble some sort of soup. It was no masterpiece, but it’d serve the purpose. The good thing about soup was that he could always reheat it later in the week if he didn’t feel like cooking. Plus it was warm and that would help keep him warm from the bitter New York cold.

His apartment door creaked open. Steve looked over to see Bucky coming in. He had a scarf covering his face, and his hands were stuck in his pockets and Steve could him shivering ever so slightly.

“I’m making soup. It should be ready soon,” Steve said as Bucky closed the door behind him. “I didn’t realize you were stopping by today. I figured you’d be doing family stuff all week.”

Bucky frowned as he took off the scarf and wrapped it up before tossing it on the table. “Yeah well, you said you weren’t coming over and I wasn’t going to abandon you the week of Christmas. Your Ma would haunt me til the day I die if I let you mope around during the holidays.”

Steve gave him a look. “I’m fine, Buck. Really, I am. I don’t need you looking after me like I’m some kid.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he walked over to where Steve was standing by the stove. He came up behind Steve and draped himself around him, resting his head on top of Steve’s. “You ever think that maybe I wanted to spend this time with you?”

Steve sighed as he let himself lean back against Bucky’s chest. “Thanks, Buck. You don’t have to look after me though. I’ll be fine if you spend Christmas with your folks.”

“You know that you’re more than welcome to come too,” Bucky said as he lightly kissed the top of Steve’s head. “They’ve been asking about you.”

Steve shrugged as he felt Bucky peppering sweet kisses to his head. “I’ll think about it.”

“Oh!” Bucky pulled himself away from Steve and went over to the table. “I almost forgot.” He tossed Steve a package. “Since I probably won’t see you until after Christmas, because you’re so stubborn.”

Steve glared at him. “I thought we agreed… no gifts this year--”

“Knock it off,” Bucky teased him. “It’s nothing big. I just saw it and I thought of you.”

Steve shook his head as he slowly opened it. He gawked. There were two items in the box. The first was a new blanket. It wasn’t one of the older raggedy blankets that Steve had been accustomed to. This blanket was beautiful and fleece and heavy. It must have cost Bucky a small fortune. The other was a new sketchbook. It was bound by leather. Bucky must have spent half his paycheck on all this.

“This is too much--” Steve began.

“It’s not just from me,” Bucky cut him off. “Mom and Rebecca pitched in too. We wanted to make sure that you knew that… even though your Ma’s gone… you’ve still got family here in Brooklyn.”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Merry Christmas, Buck.”


End file.
